Puppet Master #1
I have to admit I’m flabbergasted and bamboozled. I have to admit these are crude words to describe what I’m driving at. I have to admit they came out spontaneous and intuitive, two more words that have been polished smooth by overuse. I really don’t have to admit anything, but it buys time while I worm my way into the core of the apple.
It all started with TV, the birth of uniform imagery; we no longer see what we hear. The visual jingle, the hot babe in a negligee, or in a Thunderbird on a beach, or draped over a bottle of Cutty Sark. The slow death of Capitalism, the fusion of supply and demand. Yes, of course it started before that, but let’s cinch tight the focus on our grand-finale departure.
The smart phone, your laptop, the war machine. The enrichment of uranium, the consolidation of power, the quick rise of lip-service. Morality morphed into brutality without changing its name. The escalating increments of encroachment, surveillance of your most intimate moments. Mega churches and high-flying flags with tarnished stars and acid-rain stripes. Moloch feeding on everything.
We are puppets dangling from a network of strings. We can bounce about, give high-tone speeches and wave our wooden fists in the air, until the Puppet Master turns loose the strings and leaves us puddled stage center.